


Always Someone Marches Brave

by Nadia_Hernandez



Category: Charmed (TV 2018)
Genre: Angst, Conversations, F/M, Family, Family Feels, Grief/Mourning, Hell, Love, Rescue, Rescue Missions, Sisters, Temporarily Unrequited Love, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2018-12-29
Packaged: 2019-09-29 15:38:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17206121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nadia_Hernandez/pseuds/Nadia_Hernandez
Summary: The Power of Three is strong, that of sisterhood even stronger, and that of love the strongest of all.





	Always Someone Marches Brave

**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I was a big fan of the original Charmed (like, it was a major part of transitioning me from "kid" to "teenager" back in middle school) and I love, love, love the new one, too. I hope everyone watches so we can have so much more of this great show!

When she brings up the problem to Charity, the Elder suggests assigning a new Whitelighter to the sisters. “These things happen,” she says. “It is unfortunate when they do but in all my years I have not yet found a way to avoid them.” She is so pale and cool, so aloof, that it barely thaws her humanity when she adds, “To my great sorrow, may I add.”

Mel, who knows that she struggles with diplomacy even when she is not distressed, tries to explain the situation. “It’s not that we need a new Whitelighter, Charity,” she says. “We are three strong, independent women and, especially with the Book of Shadows to guide us, we really don’t need anyone to guide us. We want Harry back because he’s our friend. We care about him.”

Charity heaves a long sigh. “First of all, for all the gods’ sakes you sound like a tumblr post. Second… don’t you think I feel the same way? He has been my friend--has been more than that--for longer than you have been alive, Melanie. Don’t you think that I would save him if I could?”

“Yeah,” she says, “I guess… but--”

Charity cuts her off. “What part of ‘hell dimension straining to break free’ don’t you understand? You’re a smart young woman, after all. Do you need a visual aid? Because I can conjure a visual aid and that, my dear, will not be pretty.”

That, in Charity’s eyes at least, seems to have closed the subject. Melanie is not so sure and so, as with everything that affects their tiny three person coven, she discusses the matter with her sisters.

Maggie is as adamant on the subject as Melanie has been. “We’ve got to get him out,” she says. “He wouldn’t hesitate for, like, a second if it was one of us. He’d be like, ‘hey, hell dimension. We’re doing this, right?’ And boom. We’d be saved.”

Mel agrees in spirit, if not in exact vocabulary, but Macy remains silent. She is a ghost with dark curls and huge, dark eyes that seem to open into forever. After a few quiet moments, perhaps so that she can collect thoughts that are difficult to put into words, she says, “I’m not so sure about that.”

Mel, dedicated to reason and rational debate as she always has been, calmly and logically jumps on her sister with both feet. “What the hell do you mean you’re ‘not so sure about that?’ When has Harry ever hung us out to dry?”

Macy does not point out that Mel, herself, had been all too willing to believe that their Whitelighter was evil at the instigation of an untested spirit. She says, instead, “Harry is… was… is, I guess, a fighter for good. The greater good. Maybe the greatest good? I don’t know. But still… he wouldn’t want us to risk us cracking hell open and letting everything bad down there just run wild all over earth. I mean, he wouldn’t, right?” Her voice is small. It wavers in the still, cool Michigan air.

“Do you really believe that?” Mel snaps. “Because I don’t and I don’t think you do, either.”

“I don’t believe it, okay?” she replies. “But that still doesn’t mean that I think doing something that goes completely against our mission as Charmed Ones is a good idea. I mean… accidentally unleashing hell? That would be more embarassing than getting turned into a mermaid with one of those goofy seashell bras or getting possessed and dancing on a bar or something.”

“I mean, even if we do unleash hell maybe it won’t be so bad,” Maggie says. 

“I’m pretty sure it would be, Mags,” Macy says. “That’s why they call it hell, right? It’s where Satan belches fire and enormous devils break wind both night and day.”

Mel blinks. “Did you just for reals quote the Black Adder in a serious discussion?”

“I guess. Sometimes I get kinda dumb when I’m really upset. I’m sorry.”

“No, no,” Mel says. “Don’t apologize… that was so unexpected that I’m actually kinda impressed.” She shakes her head to clear it. “Anyway. We’ve got to save him. No matter what this cost is. Witches don’t ever leave anyone behind.”

“I think that may actually be Marines,” Maggie says. “Just pointing that out.”

“Whatever,” Mel says. “We can be Witch Marines. Witchines? Mitches? I dunno. We’ll figure it out as we go. Like we have to do every damn other thing.” She casts a sharp, narrow glance on Macy. “I’d have thought you to be just roaring to mount a rescue mission.”

“What? What do you mean?” Macy is not sure what to make of the question.

“Just that you’re as close to Harry as any of us--maybe more since you two can talk all of that really hardcore uber geek stuff and sip tea together.”

She shrugs. “I guess it’s my science background. Makes me kinda cold, you know, rational. Trying to do the whole Jeremy Bentham, John Stuart Mill thing. Or it might even be the darkness inside me which, we’ve all gotta admit, we don’t know a whole hell of a lot about at this point.”

“I guess,” Mel says, “I dunno. Whatever.” She twists her hands, twists her features, says. “We’re not getting anywhere arguing about it, anyway, right? We’ll get you on board later, if we have to. I’m gonna go check the Book of Shadows with Maggie.” She makes her exeunt without checking to see if her little sister, a dedicated tagalog in her childhood, has retained the habit.

She does not follow, at least not immediately. “You’re not fooling anyone, you know,” she says. 

“What do you mean?”

“I know you’re trying to be Miss Science and Miss Greater Good but… the reason that you’re doing it is because this is tearing you apart. It’s also the reason that you haven’t even talked to poor Galvin since Harry fell and he follows you around like a big, lost puppy dog.”

Macy winces. “I guess he kinda got a lot dropped on him at once and then I ghosted him, didn’t I?”

“You are the ghostiest, sis, total Caspar-time. But that, and everything else, is cause you are seriously hurting.”

“We all are.”

“But you more than either of us. Because you were closer.” She smiles, gently, speaks in that motherly way she has that should be more infuriating in an 18 year old than it actually is. “He is a friend to Mel--God knows she needs one of those--and kind of a cool big brother to me… but I think he might be more to you. I’ve seen the way you look at each other over tea, and I’ve noticed the stolen glances while you’re in here putting around the kitchen. Very cozy, very… close.”

“Margarita Emelia Vera!”

“Not like that close,” Maggie says. “We all know you’re still Queen Elizabeth I and all, we know, but… close. Close-close.”

“Close-close?” Macy rolls her eyes. “What’s next, like-like? Are we in middle school, Mags?”

“Hey, I’m a whole lot closer to middle school than I am retirement,” she says. “I’m Gen Z all the way. Don’t mock the native language of my people. And more importantly don’t forget… I’m an empath.”

Her slim, cool fingers tightly encircle Macy’s wrist. All of a sudden she jumps, grimacing, and nearly folds as a bolt of straight, hot agony lances through her belly and spreads from the tips of her toes to tingle in her scalp.

She releases her grip, coughs, and straightens. “Oh yeah,” she says. “Yep. That’s the good stuff. Pure pain, just about 180 proof. That was, like, the grain alcohol of suck.”

“I… guess you’re right, aren’t you?”

“About math and science and stuff almost never but emotional stuff? Usually so, yeah.” She licks her lips, fighting off the taste of bitter, unbridgable longing that always will be and has always been. “You’ve got to let this stuff out, sis. Repressing your emotions all the time isn’t a good thing.” 

Macy begins to protest, but Maggie cuts her off. “No, I’m not saying be a basket case or screaming and weepy all the time--we’re not spicy Latina stereotypes or something--but… you’re not a robot, baby. You don’t have to be. You can lean on us, lean on your sisters.”

“I know… but it’s just so hard. Thank you, though. You showed me something that maybe even I didn’t know.”

“Oh, you todally didn’t. You are emotionally crippled all the way, hon.” Her sweet, heart shaped face grows deeply serious. “And one more thing, Mace…”

“Yeah?”

“We’re gonna get him back, and soon. I know it like I know my name.”

This makes Macy feel better, for some reason that she cannot define. The Power of Three is strong, that of sisterhood even stronger, and pure, formless love the strongest of all.


End file.
